Across Each Threshold

So frequently we sat inside those holy dwelling places, All Saints for all our sins, knowing that true grace is here in the pulpit, there in the pew. So shamelessly we sat inside those holy dwelling places, Salvation found at fingertips touching through forbidden spaces, clinging, cold in the shadows outside. So carelessly we sat inside those holy dwelling places. Do you recall the Chapel, side by side with angel's faces, where you first dared to touch my hand? Across each threshold, love, My love, we carried burning traces of that blackest, basest love, which no rosary erases.